Sins Of Passion
by Anonymous3004
Summary: Elena and Damon. In the pouring rain with just their sizzling chemistry to keep them warm. Rated M for smut.


Elena finally managed to heft her overstuffed suitcase out and, after shutting the door behind her with a slam, she promptly broke into a nonsensical victory jig. One that lasted for all of ten seconds before she realized that she wasn't alone. Rather than the empty streets that the lateness of the hour called for, her audience included one tall, criminally handsome vampire who looked as powerful as the hood of the black Audi he leaned against.

She froze mid-pirouette for a brief second before pulling to an ungainly stop, even as every last nerve ending of her body began tingling as though ignited; all clamoring to make their reaction to the man standing in front of them known.

"Uhm, ah... Mr. Salvatore… I mean, Damon... No, I mean Mr. Salvatore. I, ah, didn't expect to see you here. Stef promised to pick me up..." Elena was babbling and it was little wonder why. Rather than concentrate on presenting a cool, crisp demeanor; her brain was focused on drinking in his features - From the angular jaw to the silky black mop of hair to the sinful eyes that lay in between. _Stop it, Elena. Get a grip._

"But Elena, surely my brother informed you that he wouldn't be able to make it and we'd be driving to the farmhouse together instead?" Was it her imagination or did he make her name sound sexier?

"I haven't exactly checked my phone in a while," Elena replied, careful to address his shoulder so as to avoid looking at those sinful eyes a second longer than necessary. Bad move. A really bad move, for his casual white t-shirt clung to his shoulders and arms and lovingly outlined their powerful contours. _Shit. Look away. Quick!_

"Anyway, the network always sucks here so he probably couldn't get through," she continued as she awkwardly hefted her bag from one hand to the other. "Wait Elena, let me help you with that," he said as he started towards her. So he _DID_ make her name sound sexier! No, wait. Why was he coming towards her? No, stop! Damon from a distance was all she could handle. A close-up view of him and she wouldn't be responsible for what happened next.

Damon braced himself for the impact as he leaned in to take her bag from her, but as always, the sight of her creamy skin combined with the draft of her unique scent hit him like a punch in the gut. He curled his fingers around the strap of the bag, ignoring his brain's nonsensical pleas to grab the hem of her too-short skirt instead. "Thanks, Mr. Salvatore," she said meekly, still addressing his shoulder. "Damon. Call me Damon," he gritted as he tossed the suitcase in the boot and got in the front.

"We won't be able to leave if you don't get in the damn car," he called out the window, feeling an irrational frustration grow. Mr. Salvatore. _Mr._ _Salvatore_ , for crap's sake. Of course, he got all the distant civility and politeness while all the coy smiles and flirtatious looks were reserved for his brother, the eternal good guy next door. Hell, the girl couldn't even look him in the eye. Why couldn't she be the same bubbly girl she was with his brother? _Then again,_ his brain sneered, _it is your brother she's dating. Not you_. And this was just brotherly irritation he was feeling, he decided. Brotherly irritation, indeed, that brought about a stirring reaction in him as she got in the car and her miniature skirt slid up even further. He shifted subtly in his seat as he fought to mask his response.

"Your door isn't locked properly," he bit out with difficulty. However, after watching her juggle it futilely for two minutes, his patience wore out and he reached over to do it himself, ever so careful not to touch her. But just as he leaned over, she turned around sharply and he felt one of the pointed studs of her bracelet slash across his cheekbone painfully. "Oh my God! I am so, so sorry," she cried out and reached out to assess the damage. _God, NO!_ He could put up with the pain, but if she so much as touched him, he'd be lost. Panic propelled him away from her and he slammed the car door behind him, heedless of the fact that rain had now begun pouring down.

 _Oh, God,_ she stared at the offending bracelet in horror. _What had she done_? Yanking off the bracelet, she headed out of the car as well, not the heeding the fact that rain begun pouring down either. "Damon?" she called out tentatively as she walked to where he stood with his back to her and reached out to touch his shoulder. Under his now soaked shirt, she felt his body shudder at her touch and he turned around with a hunted look in his eyes.

"To hell with Stefan," he muttered roughly before yanking her to him and sealing her lips with his. It was as if someone had injected a shot of vodka directly into her system; her veins started dancing as if on fire. She leaned hungrily into kiss and her hands greedily grabbed his shirt; letting out a wicked moan of desire as she felt his muscles bunching under her touch. He responded by pulling her ever closer, so that every inch of his body was now branded against her own.

"Elena," he murmured on a tortured note as she rubbed herself sinuously against his glorious form. He raised his head and turned to look at the house and then at her, with a silent question in his eyes. Wow, he was actually asking her permission, quite unlike Stefan who always just... Oh, shit! Stefan! Her supposed boyfriend! She backed a step away and drew in a shaky breath. He was her boyfriend, not Damon, and she had no business canoodling with anyone in the rain who wasn't Stefan.

She looked up to tell him just that, only to find him staring at her with a hungry look on his devilish face and his hand outstretched, as if beckoning her forward. With a bold sense of foreboding, she placed her hand in his and tugged, "This way."

They raced each other back to the house, where after three failed tries, she gave up trying to unlock the door and just watched instead as he snatched the keys from her hand impatiently and did it himself. Once inside, he pinned her to the door and continued right where they had left off outside.

"Do you have any idea how badly I've wanted to do this all night?" he whispered in her ear as he peeled off her wet slip of a skirt. She let out a moan of pure delight as his mouth found her neck and steadily worked its way lower. Feeling like a vixen she helped him in discarding her soaked tank top and nearly came as she watched him unclip her bra with his teeth.

"Wait, Elena," his voice jarred her happy bubble urgently. "How the hell am I supposed to the find the bedroom in this place?" he looked around bewildered at her cluttered living room. The... what? _The bedroom. The man needs to know where the bedroom is_ , her brain snapped back impatiently. "Oh ya, the bedroom. Go straight, take the first door on your left, then a right and then the next left. Oh but, I locked it before leaving so go back to your first right and take the key from the silver cup on the mantel." He asked her to repeat the instructions, nodded carefully and just proceeded to the couch instead where he finally made her his.


End file.
